A Lawman in Her Stocking (11 page)

Grinning, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him. “Did I say I wanted to watch a movie? I’d rather watch you.”

He felt his heart stop, then thump hard against his rib cage. “You’re going to cause me to have a heart attack if you don’t stop that.”

“Stop what?” she asked innocently as they stepped off the elevator and started toward their room.

“You know what,” he growled, digging in his jacket pocket for the card key.

“You don’t want me to tell you how sexy I think you are?” she whispered close to his ear. “The other night at your place you said you wanted to hear me—”

“Not until we’re in the room,” he interrupted, fumbling with the key.

“Can I tell you how good it feels to have you—”

He placed his hand over her mouth, effectively cutting her off. “I’ve created a monster,” he muttered, inserting the key into the slot.

She tickled his palm with her tongue and he damned near broke the card off in the lock. Pulling his hand from her mouth, he rubbed it against his thigh to ease the tingling sensation that sent his blood
pressure skyrocketing and heat racing straight to the region below his belt buckle.

“Darlin’, if you don’t stop that I’m going to die of frustration before I get this door open.”

“I was just going to tell you how good it feels to have you…”

He gave her a stern look.

She ignored it. “…here with me for Granny and Pete’s wedding,” she finished, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that one,” he promised as he finally opened the door to their room and turned on the lights. Pulling her inside, he took her into his arms as he kicked the door closed behind them. “Do you have any idea what that kind of talk can do to a man?”

“No.” Her smile almost brought him to his knees. “Would you like to show me?”

At the sudden tightening of his groin, he sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re determined to drive me out of my mind, aren’t you?”

“I hadn’t considered it,” she said thoughtfully.

A spark of mischief lit her pretty blue eyes a moment before she walked over to the dimmer switch on the wall beside the door. Dimming the lights to a soft muted glow, she turned back to face him.

“But you drove me out of my mind last night in the hotel in Albuquerque, and the night before in your cabin, so I think it’s only fair.” Reaching up, she slipped the sports jacket from his shoulders and hung it in the closet. “Would you mind if I drove you a little crazy tonight, Sheriff?”

Dylan swallowed hard. “Not at all, darlin’.”

She gave him a smile that caused his heart to stop, then take off at an alarming rate. “Tonight it’s my turn to drive you to the brink.”

His pulse thundered in his ears at the sparkling promise he saw in her determined gaze. Sensing that she needed to feel in control of their lovemaking, he forced himself to stand still while she worked at unbuttoning his shirt. Slowly easing the button below his open collar through the buttonhole, she trailed her fingers down his chest to the next button, then the next. He sucked in a sharp breath with each touch, and by the time she reached his waistband to tug the tails of his shirt from his jeans, he felt as if his lungs might explode.

Parting the fabric, she placed her hands on his stomach and lightly smoothed them up his abdomen to his chest. She teased his puckered nipples with her fingertips, then caressed his pectoral muscles with her soft, warm palms. Dylan exhaled the air trapped in his lungs in one big whoosh.

“Does that feel good?” she asked, glancing up at him from beneath her lashes.

He had to clear his throat to make his voice work. “If it felt any better I doubt I could stand it, darlin’.”

She ran her hands up to his shoulders, then down his arms, pushing his shirt off as she went. “You have a beautiful body, Dylan.”

Her softly murmured appreciation sent his temperature up several degrees. “I like yours a lot better,” he said hoarsely.

The look she gave him when she tossed his shirt aside was filled with promise and he wondered what she’d do next. He didn’t have long to wait. Taking
him by the hand, she led him farther into the room, then walked over to turn on the clock-radio beside the bed. A slow romantic tune immediately surrounded them.

When she returned to stand in front of him, she bent to pull off his boots, then straightened to give him a look that made sweat bead on his forehead and his arousal strain against his fly. If the glint in her eyes was any indication, she fully intended to drive him stark raving mad with her exploration of his body before she once again allowed him a glimpse of her tempting curves.

Holding his gaze with hers, she ran her index finger down the narrow line of hair from his navel to his belt. Every muscle in his body tensed and he took a deep steadying breath. Standing still while Brenna had her fun just might prove to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. Her hands brushing his belly as she worked the leather strap through the metal buckle, had him placing his hands on her shoulders to steady himself. There was no question about it. It was
definitely
the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

He took several deep breaths in an effort to slow his body down. He’d be lucky if he had an ounce of sense left by the time she was finished undressing him, he decided.

She popped the snap on his jeans and toyed with the metal tab, causing him to swallow hard around the lump of cotton clogging his throat. He was aroused to an almost painful state and a zipper could be a lethal weapon to a man in his condition if it wasn’t lowered carefully.

“Darlin’—”

Before he could warn her, she placed her finger to his lips, then slowly eased the tab down over the insistent bulge stretching his cotton briefs. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

But when she touched the fabric covering his arousal, Dylan groaned and closed his eyes as the burning in his lower belly spread to every cell of his being. She was definitely driving him out of his mind. And heaven help him, he was loving every minute of it.

“Open your eyes and look at me, darling.”

When he did as she commanded, she held his gaze with hers, placed her hands at his flanks, then slowly pushed his jeans and briefs from his hips and down his legs. Stepping out of them, he kicked them to the side and reached for her.

“Not yet.” Her throaty whisper sent a wave of heat down his spine and he cursed himself for agreeing to let her play the role of seductress. He’d be lucky if he had a mind left at all by the time she finished with him.

She removed her shoes and panty hose, then arranging her long hair over one shoulder, turned for him to unzip the back of her dress. Aroused as he was, the simple task proved extremely difficult and he fumbled with the tab a moment before he finally managed to slide it open. His knuckles brushed her satiny smooth back and she trembled in response to his touch. She was as turned on as he was, and he took comfort in the fact that he wasn’t the only one suffering from her loveplay.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her
to face him and started to take her into his arms. But she shook her head and stepped away from him.

He watched, mesmerized, as she slipped the dress from her creamy shoulders and let it fall into a dark green pool at her feet. Dylan swallowed hard when she reached up to release the front closure of her bra. The damned thing was so filmy he could see the deep rose of her tightly beaded nipples beneath the emerald-green lace.

She smiled as she unfastened the clasp, then slipped the straps down her arms, freeing her full, firm breasts to his appreciative gaze. He groaned. But when she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her tiny panties, he thought his eyes would pop right out of his head. Besides her panty hose, all she’d had on beneath that pretty green dress the entire evening had been nothing but a wisp of lace that revealed more of her breasts than it covered, and a minuscule silk and lace thong. The knowledge caused the blood to roar through his veins and his body to jerk to full alert.

“I’m glad I didn’t know about what you
didn’t
have on under that dress, darlin’,” he said, his voice sounding as if it had turned to rust.

Laughing softly, she walked toward him. “Why?”

“Because it would have been hard as hell to hide how much I want you,” he growled. He held out his arms. “Come here, Brenna.”

When she walked into his embrace, he pulled her to him and the feel of female against male, firm masculine flesh to soft feminine skin, had him feeling as if he’d been set on fire. He felt scored where her pebbled nipples pressed into his chest and his hard arousal nestled to her lower belly sent a rush of desire
coursing through him that he thought might just take his head right off his shoulders.

“Dance with me,” she whispered against his shoulder.

Dance? He was lucky he was still able to stand upright. But he’d walk through hellfire before he disappointed her, and when she began to gently sway against him, Dylan held her tight, gritted his teeth and fought to keep his sanity as he helped her play out her fantasy.

Tucking her long, silky hair behind her ear, he lowered his head and nibbled the sensitive skin along the column of her neck. Her moan of pleasure encouraged him and he slid his hands down her back to her bottom, then back up her sides to the swell of her breasts.

“Darlin’, I want you more than I want my next breath.”

She leaned back to look up at him, and the hunger he saw in her eyes sent a shaft of need straight to his groin. Taking his hand in hers, she led him to the bed. “Lie down, darling.”

“Just a minute,” he said, reaching for his discarded jeans. Removing a couple of the foil packets tucked in the back of his wallet, he placed them within easy reach on the beside table, then stretched out on the bed.

He expected her to join him, but instead she picked up one of the packets and tore it open. She hesitated, and he could tell she wasn’t quite sure she had the nerve to finish the task.

“You’re doin’ just fine, darlin’,” he said encouragingly.

His heart stuttered, then took off at a dead run when
her gaze met his a moment before she touched his fevered flesh and rolled their protection into place. He’d never had a woman do that and he found it more exciting than he’d ever dreamed possible.

He reached for her, but she shook her head. “Remember, it’s my turn to drive you wild tonight, darling.”

To his immense relief, not to mention the preservation of what was left of his mental health, she straddled him and without hesitation guided him to her moist heat. Closing his eyes, Dylan brought his hands up to hold her hips as her supple body consumed all of his. But Brenna’s moan of pleasure as she completely settled herself on top of him almost proved his undoing and it took everything he had to keep what small scrap of control he had left.

“Darlin’…” He clenched his back teeth so tightly his jaw ached. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can handle.”

“Open your eyes, Dylan,” she said softly, repeating what he’d said to her the first night they’d made love.

When his gaze locked with hers, she began a gentle rocking that quickly had him racing toward the point of no return. Unable to contain himself any longer, he took control of the rhythm she’d set. Their bodies seemed to move in time with the music from the radio as he guided them to the pinnacle and he lost sight of where he ended and she began.

Seconds later, he felt her tighten around him, heard her brokenly whisper his name, a moment before she gave herself up to the culmination of pleasure. She collapsed on top of him and he held her trembling
body until the storm was spent and she went limp with completion.

Only then did Dylan allow himself to succumb to the red haze of passion surrounding him. Every muscle in his body constricted as he sought his own fulfillment, and surging into her a final time, he groaned with the satisfaction of finding his own release from the tension holding him captive.

Time seemed to stand still as Dylan slowly recovered from the most soul-shattering climax of his life. He’d never experienced anything like what he’d just shared with Brenna.

“Dylan?”

“What, darlin’?”

“I love you,” she said softly.

His heart skittered to a halt, then thumped hard against his ribs as he came to terms with Brenna’s sleepy confession. Before he could form a response, her even breathing signaled that she’d fallen asleep.

Had he heard her right? She loved him?

Dylan gently moved her to his side, then turned to face her. Brushing a silky strand of copper hair from her porcelain cheek, he watched her sleep. His chest tightened and the spark of renewed desire began to burn at his gut.

Brenna loved him.

Three weeks ago, that thought would have scared him to death and sent him running in the opposite direction. But now?

She snuggled against him in her sleep and Dylan wrapped his arms around her to cradle her to him. A protectiveness he’d never felt before swept through him.

He took a deep breath, then another.

Five years ago, he’d made a fool of himself, and the fear of doing it again had kept him from getting involved with anyone since. But Brenna wasn’t just any other woman. She was fast becoming an obsession, a necessity in his life that he hadn’t known existed.

He gazed down at her. Somehow she’d gotten under his skin without him realizing when or how. And if the tender, protective feelings he had welling up inside of him were any indication, she’d be there for a good long time.

F
our days after she and Dylan returned from Las Vegas, Brenna sat in the community room of the town hall, staring off into space. Her mind wasn’t on the Beautification Society’s committee meeting, the second phase of the project, or the complaints the women mentioned getting from their husbands about the Santa Claus fire hydrants. All she’d been able to think about for the past few days had been Dylan and where their relationship was headed.

After they’d made love the night they’d spent in Las Vegas, she’d inadvertently told him she loved him before she’d fallen asleep. She hadn’t meant to let him know how she felt, but once the words were out, there was no turning back.

He’d remained silent, and neither one of them had mentioned it, even though they’d spent every spare
minute of the day together, and every night entwined in each other’s arms since being trapped in his cabin the day the blue norther blew through. And that bothered her. A lot.

When she’d been involved with Tom, he’d been the first to tell her how he felt. But Tom had turned out to be self-centered, and she’d learned the hard way that his feelings for her were as shallow as he was.

But Dylan was different. He didn’t have an agenda, a scheme to further his plans at her expense. His career was secure and there wasn’t anything he needed from her. She sighed. Unfortunately, that still didn’t alter the fact that he knew how she felt about him, while she had no idea what his feelings were for her.

“Brenna, dear, are you listening?” Cornelia asked, interrupting Brenna’s disturbing introspection.

“I’m sorry.” Brenna sat up straight and faced the other ladies of the planning committee sitting across the table from her. “What was that you were saying? Some of the men are complaining about the fire hydrants?”

Emily Taylor nodded. “When I told my Ed that we intend to paint them for every holiday, I thought he was going to choke on his supper.” The woman shook her head. “I can’t understand what the men are so upset about. They’re just fire hydrants.”

“Have any of you told your husbands what we plan to do for the week preceding the Christmas Jamboree?” Brenna asked, feeling a tension headache coming on. She certainly didn’t want to continue the project if the men were all opposed to more changes.

“No,” Helen Washburn said, looking grim. “Luke
and I haven’t been on real good terms since he told me to throw away my paints and buy a dog to occupy my time.” She snorted. “He tried to get back in my good graces with a box of chocolates a couple of days later, but he never did apologize.”

“Ed did the same thing,” Emily said, frowning.

Cornelia’s eyes narrowed. “Myron did, too.”

Brenna rubbed the throbbing at her temples. “If it’s going to be this much of a problem, maybe we should scrap the rest of the project.”

“We’ll do no such thing,” Cornelia stated flatly. She rose from her seat to pace back and forth a moment before she stopped to plant her fists on her ample hips. “The men in this town have had their way and run things long enough. And it’s time we put a stop to it.”

“We’re citizens of Tranquillity the same as they are,” Emily said, nodding.

“That’s right,” Helen agreed. “My family’s been here a lot longer than Luke’s.”

Brenna listened to the exchange with a growing sense of trepidation. It sounded like the women were planning to take over the town, instead of decorate Main Street for the community Christmas party.

“Girls, we’re going to proceed as planned, and the devil take what the men think,” Cornelia said, slapping the tabletop with the flat of her hand.

“Ladies, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Brenna said, hoping to defuse the mutiny. “If the men don’t want the Beautification Society painting new street signs and renaming Main Street ‘Reindeer Way’ for the next week—”

“Don’t worry about the men,” Cornelia inter
rupted, laughing. “They’re not going to know anything about it until it’s a done deal. Tomorrow’s Saturday and we’ll have all day to work on them. We’ll meet here first thing in the morning, lock the doors and paint the signs, then we’ll divide into teams and put them up simultaneously. By the time the men notice what we’re doing, we’ll be finished.”

“I’m all for it,” Helen said, looking quite pleased.

“Me, too.” Emily clapped her hands excitedly. “Cornelia, you’re a genius.”

If the men were protesting the painting of a handful of fire hydrants, what would happen when the women painted wooden cut-outs of reindeer and tacked them over the existing street signs all along Tranquillity’s main thoroughfare?

“But don’t we have to have permission from the town council to implement a change like that?” Brenna asked, hoping that reason would prevail.

“Not as far as I’m concerned,” Cornelia said confidently. She grinned wickedly as she added, “If Myron says anything about our putting the signs up, I’ve got a couch that he considers an instrument of torture. If he has to spend a night or two on it, he’ll shut up soon enough.”

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Dylan asked as he helped Brenna hang ornaments on the Christmas tree he’d helped her set up in front of her living room window. She’d been strangely quiet all evening and he could tell something was bothering her. Bad.

She sighed heavily and the sound caused his chest to tighten. He didn’t like the idea of anything upsetting her.

“I met with the Beautification Society’s planning committee this afternoon.”

At the mention of the B.S. Club, Dylan’s eyebrow started to twitch and his gut twisted into a tight knot. How the hell was he going to get out of hearing about the Main Street Project this time?

If he’d known Brenna was troubled by something the B.S. Club had up their sleeves, he’d have kept his mouth shut. The less he knew about their cockamamie schemes, the better. That way, the next time Myron asked if Brenna had divulged any information about the second phase of the project, Dylan could honestly say that she hadn’t.

“Do you know why some of the men are so upset by the Main Street Project?” she asked as she hung ornaments that looked like little miniature lassoes on the branches.

The twitch in his eyebrow increased. “What makes you think they’re upset?” he asked, positioning a gold star on the top of the tree.

She turned to face him and her worried expression tightened the knot in his stomach. “The members of the committee said their husbands thought the idea of painting the fire hydrants for different holidays was ludicrous.”

He swallowed hard. What could he say? He thought the damned things were pretty ridiculous, too.

“Most of the men in Tranquillity have been here all their lives,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “They like the way the town has always been and don’t see any reason to change it.”

He watched her digest what he’d said, then shake her head. “The women don’t want to change Tran
quillity’s way of life. They just want to liven it up a bit by putting up a few seasonal decorations to make its celebrations more special.”

“Like the Jamboree?”

Hanging a tiny Christmas stocking on one of the branches, she nodded. “Painting fire hydrants and—”

Before she could finish telling him something he’d rather not know, Dylan reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t worry about it, darlin’. Everyone will have a good time at the Jamboree just like they always do.”

“But—”

He covered her mouth with his, effectively putting an end to any further talk of fire hydrants, the B.S. Club, or anything else. By the time he lifted his head, the worried expression on Brenna’s face had disappeared.

Stepping away from her, he took a deep breath to slow his body’s response to the kiss. The sooner they finished decorating the tree, the sooner he could do what he really wanted. And that was to carry her to the bedroom and make love to her for the rest of the night.

“Have you heard from the newlyweds?” he asked, picking up a strand of garland that looked like a string of red peppers. He grinned. Apparently, Brenna wanted her tree’s theme to reflect her recent move to southwest Texas.

Nodding, she pulled a sprig of fake mistletoe from a sack. “Granny called this afternoon to say they’d be spending tomorrow night in Albuquerque, then drive home the day after.”

“Have you thought about which one of us they’ll stay with until they find a place?” he asked, draping the garland over the branches.

“Not really,” she said as she looked around for a place to hang the mistletoe. “I wish they hadn’t put the burden of making a choice on us.”

“I guess we could take turns.” He shrugged. “One week here. One week out at my place.”

“That would work,” Brenna said, sounding distracted.

Dylan glanced up to see her worrying her lower lip. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t seem to find a place to hang the mistletoe,” she said, frowning.

“Let me see what I can come up with.” He took the sprig of greenery from her and held it over her head. Grinning, he leaned down to kiss her soft, sweet lips. “I like hanging it right here.”

On Sunday afternoon, Dylan sat in his private office, staring at the three grim-faced men on the other side of his desk. “Myron, did you give the B.S. Club permission for this latest change?” he asked tiredly.

“Hell no!” Apparently unable to sit still, the mayor shot from his chair to pace the perimeter of the room. “The first I heard about it was when Luke called to tell me to look out my window at the street sign on the corner.”

“Whoever heard of a town in southwest Texas with the main road runnin’ through it named Reindeer Way?” Luke asked, sounding as disgusted as he looked. “Hell, unless they got one in the zoo in El
Paso, or up in Dallas, there ain’t a reindeer within two thousand miles of here.”

Ed snorted. “And the women have it in their heads they’re gonna do somethin’ like this for every holiday.” His face reddened and the veins on the side of his neck stood out as his anger rose. “Emily said they’re already makin’ plans to paint the hydrants to look like rabbits for Easter, leprechauns for St. Patrick’s Day and cupids for Valentine’s Day.”

“No tellin’ what else they’ll come up with,” Luke said, groaning.

Clearly exasperated, Myron took off his cowboy hat and ran an agitated hand over his bald head. “Knowin’ Cornelia and that bunch, they’ll end up callin’ Main Street somethin’ stupid like the Bunny Trail or Leprechaun Lane.”

Ed’s face turned a deeper shade of crimson. “Aw, hell. You don’t think they’ll try to put some kind of canopy over Main Street and call it the Tunnel of Love for Valentine’s Day, do you?”

Dylan reached up to rub his twitching eyebrow as he listened to the men bluster about the street signs along Main Street. He’d thought the Santa fire hydrants were tacky, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the painted, wooden reindeer street signs the B.S. Club had put up. The damned things had the sappiest grins plastered on their faces that he’d ever seen. He could only imagine what the women would do with bunnies, leprechauns and cupids.

“If you didn’t give them permission to do this, Myron, then who did?” Dylan asked tiredly.

“That’s the real kicker in all this,” Ed said, looking bewildered. “They just up and did it without
checkin’ with any of us.” He shook his head. “They’ve never done that before.”

“You know, Dylan, most of this is your fault,” Myron said, sinking back down in his chair.

“My fault! How do you figure that?” Dylan demanded, his gut feeling as if he’d been sucker punched.

Ed nodded. “We told you to spend as much time as you could with that Montgomery gal and find out what the B.S. Club was up to.”

“Yeah,” Luke chimed in. “You were supposed to let us know what the women had up their sleeves so we could stop it before it went this far.”

“Take that little gal down to a movie in Alpine this evenin’,” Myron said. “And while you’re sittin’ in the dark all cuddled up, find out if they’re plannin’ anything else.”

“Yeah,” Ed said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If my face ends up on a leprechaun or a cupid, your job just might depend on it.”

Before he could defend himself, Dylan heard a quiet gasp. Looking up, his heart felt as if it dropped to his boottops. There stood Brenna at the open door of his office, her face ashen.

“I’m sorry…the door was open and I—” She stopped to take a breath. “I have to go now.”

Her eyes met his then, and the shattered expression on her beautiful face tore at his insides. Jumping to his feet, he started around the desk. “Brenna—”

But she’d already whirled around and fled.

Brenna ran across the outer room of the sheriff’s office, shoved through the door, then started down the
sidewalk. Her heart pounded and her chest felt too constricted to breathe. Dylan had only been seeing her because he’d been ordered to discover what he could about the Main Street Project and report back to the town council.

Tears blurred her vision, but she kept on running. He’d followed the directive and spent as much time as he could with her in his effort to carry out his mission. And like a fool, she’d played right into his hand.

Pain as sharp as if a knife had been plunged into her chest made her stop to wrap her arms around herself. No wonder he hadn’t told her he loved her. He didn’t. Dylan had only been seeing her to ensure his position as sheriff was secure. Her breath caught on a sob. He’d used her, just as Tom had done.

Feeling as if she might be physically ill, Brenna started down the side street leading to her house. But she’d only gone a few yards when two strong hands clamped down on her shoulders to stop her.

“Darlin’—”

“Don’t call me that,” she said around the lump clogging her throat. Whirling to face Dylan, she gritted her teeth as she fought the emotions churning inside of her. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“I need to explain about—”

“You don’t have to justify yourself,
Sheriff.
You were just following orders.” Squirming from beneath his tight grasp, she once again started toward home.

“Dammit, Brenna, be reasonable,” he said, falling into step beside her.

“Go away.”

“No. Not until you listen.”